Through a haze of fear and nausea, MacVitie heard voices, though they sounded miles away. Somehow he stopped his feet moving and stared uncomprehendingly at the cats in front of him. He still heard them as if through a long tunnel.
"So, you just nip on back to where you came from," someone was saying. "No one wants you here. You leave my mum alone and never bother her again, is that clear?"
"Carbuckety," called another voice anxiously, "come away now. Come back over here with me."
"Not so fast," chuckled another, "we've not quite done talking. Wouldn't want me comrades to think you impolite, wouldye?"
"Please, Brutus. Your leader is gone. Your comrades have scattered. We both of us have injured cats to see to. Can we not all go our separate ways and cease this ridiculous feud? There's nothing to fight over any longer."
"That's where yer wrong, m'dear." The feline glanced towards MacVitie, who with sudden clarity at last recognized TB. "Ain't that right, Napkit, eh? I do have a bone or two yet to pick with your folks, and one of'em's right here." He looked down at Carbuckety, who stood glaring up at him.
"Go'way and leave us alone!" the kitten demanded again. TB only laughed again in response, and effortlessly tossed Bucky up in the air and caught him again, though the tomkit managed to give him a good scratch in the process.
"Aha, so it does bite." He set Carbuckety down, though still keeping a restraining paw on him. MacVitie knew TB wouldn't simply allow Demeter and Carbuckety to walk away from this. "Now, let's be reasonable… There are only the two of you… Three, I suppose, if you count young no-account Nappy over there… Whereas me…" He glanced behind him. For the first time, MacVitie noticed that several of the newer henchcats, rather than merely scattering as Coricopat had thought, were still gathered, apparently ready to back TB up. But why? What more have they to gain? What did Griddlebone promise them? "Let's not do anything foolish, shall we?"
"What is it you want?" MacVitie spoke up at last.
"Ahh, I was hoping you'd ask, dear comrade. Ex-comrade. Say, which is it? D'ye know? I wonder, do they know?" TB nodded in Demeter's direction. "Seems t'me ye've lost the trust of both yer tribes, eh?"
"To the point, TB," MacVitie growled, refusing to be distracted though TB had pointed out what Mack feared most of all—that, at the end of the day, because of his actions, he would have nothing and no one to return to. "What do you want?"
"For myself, I want nothing more than to return peacefully to my headquarters—yes, I expect it is mine now, eh? As the previous leader seems to have moved on and the only other contender is in no state to argue the matter. I am perfectly happy to return there peacefully and have nothing more to do with the Jellicles." He paused. "I'll be taking my mate and kit with me, of course."
"I'm not yours," Demeter hissed, "and never was."
"Me neither," added Carbuckety fiercely. "We've got a real family now, and you can't take us away from them!"
"That so?" grinned the henchtom. "Well, your 'real family' aren't exactly here to back you up now, are they? Mustn't care for you all that much, eh?"
"I'm here," MacVitie growled, doing his utmost to keep his personal feelings under control. He had suspected all along, of course…but this was the first real confirmation he'd heard of Carbuckety's parentage. "And you know perfectly well why the others aren't." It infuriated him to no end to have to admit that the henchcats had whipped them, yet suffered little damage themselves. Apart from Griddle, whom was no-one-knew-where, and Gilbert. As for Skimble and Munkustrap, MacVitie wouldn't have asked them to come even if he'd thought of it; despite Cori's words, Mack was certain Old D needed to be as closely guarded as ever.
"Ah yes. Didn't leave you much capable backup, did we? Not that you had any to begin with…"
"I challenge you to single combat," MacVitie blurted out before he could stop to really consider the matter and frighten himself out of it.
TB burst out laughing in earnest. "You sure you don't wanna rethink that, kit? Ain't exactly in prime condition yerself, and even if'n y'were… Why should I take up such a pitiful challenge when I could simply take me own by force, with the help of me pals here?"
"You won't," MacVitie responded, taking a tremendous gamble. "What kind of a victory would that be? Let them do your work for you? Demonstrate you rely on them and not the other way 'round? Are you their new leader or aren't you? You want their respect or not?"
TB bared his teeth. "Just fer that I'm tired o' puttin' up with yer cheek, kit, I'll take up yer ruddy challenge. And it'll be to the death. Been nice knowin' ya." He shoved Carbuckety in the direction of one of the observing henches. "Hold onto this baggage. He escapes, yer life is forfeit." He turned back to MacVitie. "So we're clear. The terms?"
"If I win, Demeter and Carbuckety return to the Jellicles and you never go near them again."
"If you win," TB chuckled, "that's rich. But if such an impossible thing happens t'come about, I'll have t'be dead. So I can easily promise to never go near'em again in that case."
"We want the old one," hissed the tom holding onto the struggling Carbuckety. "We were promised the old one!"
"Ah, I'd nearly forgot," TB resumed. "I win, me mate an' kit goes with me, and yer precious ol' granddad chap goes with me as well."
"What?" MacVitie gasped. "That wasn't…"
"If the impossible happens and you kill me, you'd better hand him over to me pals here, or I won't answer for what they'll do."
"Never!" exclaimed MaVitie and Demeter together.
"Then the deal's off," TB shrugged. "I've got hold o' my temper now, so Nappy, if'n y'll just fetch yer pa here, me'n me family'll be on our way an' ye'll never hear a peep more out of us."
"MacVite, don't. I'll go with you, Brutus," Demeter pleaded, "but leave Old Deuteronomy out of it. Reason with your friends. Offer them something else…"
"Nothin' doing, m'dear," TB shook his head. "They've taken it into their heads yer leader has the power to grant immortality or some such ridiculous notion. Can't shake it out of'em, I'm afraid. Last thing I need's mutiny on me hands right off the bat when I've not been leader five minutes. He goes with us, whether or no. That's non-negotiable."
"Not if I've anything to say about it," Mack snarled.
"Yer gonna make me lose me temper again, kit… No deal on yer dad, so ferget it. Do we have a challenge fer the queen an' the kit, or shall I just take'em away now an' leave you to me pals?"
"Brutus," Demeter interrupted again, "let me speak with MacVitie for two minutes."
"Sure, sure," chuckled TB, quite amiable again. Evidently he was enjoying their plight. "No doubt y'wants t'say yer goodbyes."
Demeter hurried over to MacVitie. "Listen, don't do this," she hissed. "I'll go with him—I'll escape somehow—you hurry back to the others and warn them to defend Old D…"
"The state most of us are in, you think we have a chance against that lot?" Mack nodded towards the henchcats.
"Maybe not, but it will be the same situation after the fight…only…only there will be one less Jellicle defender…"
"So you think I can't best him?" MacVitie tried to let loose an unconcerned laugh, but it sounded more like a strangled croak.
"Maybe you can. Even if he's stronger, I've no doubt you can outwit him. You might succeed, even if you look like you've already taken a good hiding…"
"Really know how to make a tom feel good about himself, Deme."
"Vitie, I'm serious. You're not a killer."
"That's where you're wrong," Mack said flatly. Jezza had survived, but she could just as easily have been killed—and by MacVitie's actions, no one else's. Demeter shivered, and he knew she was still haunted by the way he had looked, covered in the henchqueen's blood. As if from a lifetime ago, he recalled the conversations he had once had with Munkustrap and Bombalurina, back when the biggest worry in the young Jellicles' lives had been the dramatics of Who would go with Whom to the Ball… It all seemed so ridiculous now. Confess your love, Bomba had said dramatically, frightening him out of his wits. He hadn't been anywhere near ready then. Yet somewhere along the way he'd missed the chance of ever being ready at all. Even if all went well—even if he defeated TB, got Demeter and Carbuckety back to the Jellicles, and between all of them they somehow managed to ward off the henches and defend Old D—the happy, untroubled times were irrevocably lost. They would all gradually move on with their lives, but those lives would never be the same again. And no matter how much she forgave him, Demeter would never be able to look at him the same way again, any more than Admetus could. He was forever bound up in their memories of the worst days of their lives; he saw no way of extricating himself.
Somehow, all of this must have managed to at least partially convey itself to Demeter, as she and MacVitie exchanged a long, wordless glance. Heaving a resigned sigh, she nodded. "Then if you must…just…" She paused. "Don't die."
"I won't," Mack forced a confidence into his voice which he was miles away from actually feeling. "And we won't let them have dad, either," he added. He waved a paw vaguely. "We'll…manage somehow. And…Quaxo…"
TB cleared his throat loudly, growing impatient. "Would've been easier to just kill you right off the bat, kit, but TB don't go back on his word once given. Let's get this over with."
Demeter returned to the place she'd been standing before, and the henchcats took a noticeable few steps back, shifting slightly, creating something of a ring around the two combatants.
As he stared across at the giant henchtom, a thought occurred to MacVitie, though it felt as if this were all happening to someone else: I've no clue what I'm doing. I'm about to die.
No! He couldn't think like that! He must get through this. He must…what had Demeter said…he had to…outwit TB somehow. What tricks did he know that TB wouldn't?
None, that was the trouble. He knew nothing about fighting. Even when he'd fought Alonzo, and later Tugger, he'd done nothing more than leap and flail about like an idiot. With Jezza, he could scarce remember a thing about what had happened, apart from a frantic determination to protect Demeter at all costs and suddenly coming to himself and realizing the henchqueen had long since stopped struggling...
TB was coming nearer. MacVitie couldn't think straight. His vision grew fuzzy. What was the matter with him? No…can't pass out now…Demeter and Carbuckety… But the darkness was irresistible. What a weakling he was. And now Demeter and Carbuckety were simply going to be taken, with no fight, no challenge…because of him.
Strangely, his last conscious thought was, How did Quaxo get here?
